Nainital slightly resembles Pokhara sans the fact that the tourists in the former were mostly all Indian and not foreign. And given that Nainital is one of India’s ultimate honeymoon destinations and that December is in the heart of the prime wedding season in India…the city was swarming with newlyweds goo goo gaaing over each other. Not the most welcoming place for singles, not to mention I was traveling alone. This did mean that I got to hear quite a range of India’s 30? some odd languages in the city. Couples all over the place flirting in Bengali, in Gujarati, Marathi, Punjabi… Everywhere I turned, I would spot brides (whose mehendi was still dark in color) with arms full of red and white bangles, giggling over every other word that came out of their husband’s mouth and the husbands, well the husbands were busy video recording each and every gesture that their new wives made (from stuffing their mouths with panipuri to re-adjusting their hairclips to the giggling). It was all quite adorable for the most part, well until my finger started hurting from all the photos that these couples asked me to snap. Thanks for engaging me in the romance, I suppose. For the most part, I spent time on the terrace of my hotel (that overlooked the lake) and read and read and read. Just what I needed.
I spent the first two days doing field work with Sahayog. Nice insight into the not so touristy side of this hill station - although I’m starting to see now more than ever all the implicit complexities of doing ethnographies. So many things to think about – wording of questions/observer affects/etc. Quite problematic. What’s objective reality anyhow?
In Naintal proper, I did all the clichés – hiked, horse riding, boat riding (tried to row myself, let’s just say the rowing simulator exercise machines at Gregory Gym are not quite like the real thing - this failure led me to a whole new appreciation for the boat rowers)…I feel so lucky as I’ve gotten to see the Himalayas three times since arriving in India in June. And you know, they are just as inspiring and moving every time. I have to admit though, sometimes I feel like I’m looking at a mirage, like the way when one looks at Saturn in a telescope and thinks to oneself, “my, this sure looks like an ornament dangling before me.” Happened to be there for Bakri Eid and got to see the streets come alive with white kurta clad men moving in unison in namaz. Even got myself invited to a couple qurbanis, but had to pass since my train was that evening. Most people can understand my choice to be vegetarian, but since coming to Lucknow, I’ve found so many people who just find vegetarianism so silly and quite pitiful of a life choice. Quite entertaining. Guess the kebabs are just that damn good. I love love love when my misconceptions about the world are broken down. When I think back to the days when I thought Indian=Hindi=vegetarian, I feel amused. Categories just aren’t that clean cut, try as one may.
Since in the last post, I kind of ragged on India, here I’ll make up for it by sharing what I love. Literally, all within four minutes walking distance of each other were: my hotel, a church, a gurudwara, a temple, and a masjid. Harsh politically manipulated realities aside, this is pluralism/coexistence.
All culminated into a rickety rackety train ride back to Aishbagh…had to take the “small gauge?” category train circuit. And, well let’s just say these stations are puny in comparison to the ones I’m used to getting off/on at. We’re talking 1-3 platforms. All in all, a fab, much needed short break from Urdu and Lucknow, even though I’m headed home in T-8 days!!!
